The 100th Annual Demigod Games
by companionathenaclawthree
Summary: What if Annabeth, Percy and the rest of them grew up in Panem, and entered the yearly fight to the death?


Annabeth:  
Today is my 17th birthday. Today is the day of the Reaping.  
My fingers are quick and nimble and they travel across my gown, adjusting it to fit perfectly. My hair is piled above my head, a single strand tucked behind my ear.  
I file out into the square and see my boyfriend, Percy Jackson, in a suit. His sea-green eyes lock with mine and I run to him, barely containing myself.  
"Percy!" I wrap him in a hug, "Oh, Seaweed Brain, good luck today, right?" He nods.  
"Of course, Wise Girl." He ruffles his own hair and I smile at him. My Seaweed Brain, the same as ever. "Good luck to you to. Now, wouldn't it be good to go to the Reaping before they kill us?" He makes a joke out of it, but it isn't a joke. Hand in hand, we walk towards the table. The Peacekeeper takes a blood sample and I try to give Percy a kiss, but the crowd flows in too heavily. Instead, I swallow and take my spot in the crowd of Seventeen year olds, most of which. Have never met. And Percy wanders over to the sixteens. We have barely taken our places when our escort starts speaking.

"Welcome, Welcome, tributes of District 2! As you know, this year is special. The fourth Quarter Quell! Double the amount of tributes are going in, and this year there is a twist - you shall be in the first-ever layered arena! there are also no volunteers allowed." My heart sinks. An upper level and a lower level - great. I tune out as she goes through the usual rules. I have been attending for six years now. I know the procedure. I find Percy and smile at him. He smiles back. And then she moves into the girls' names.

"Reyna Ramirez-Arellano!" I recognise her, a girl from my school who I occasionally sit with, though I wouldn't say we're friends. Her eyes flash defiantly and she takes her place on the stage in a outfit of purple and gold. Reyna is strong, resourceful and resilient. I wouldn't like to be pitted against her. And then our escort, Maisilee, goes to the boys.

"Grover Underwood!" I nearly faint. No, not Grover. We aren't good friends now, but when we were younger Percy, Grover and I were inseparable. A strangled scream echoes through the square and his girlfriend, Juniper, runs through the ground, her beautiful red locks streaming out behind her. She and Grover lock in a tight embrace that makes the Peecekeepers look uncomfortable. Juniper does eventually let go and Grover, shaking and nervous, takes his place on the stage. And then my name, in a shock, is called out.

My ears must be wrong; I can't be called out, not this games, not in a Quarter Quell against Grover and Reyna. I could never kill them. My legs slowly lift me to the stage, and I stare at my friends, my family, trying to find Percy in the crowd. Then I fall, already knowing why, already smelling the scent of salt on his breath.  
"Seaweed Brain." My voice cracks. How did he get past the Peecekeepers? And then I realise something - he is coming with me.

Every part of me screams at me to cry. I can never kill Percy. I can never live without him. What are they doing to me? If I want to live, Grover and Percy must die. There is no way around it, but my mind, my brilliant but so weak mind, searches for anything possible that could get me out. There is nothing.

My family won't come. I have my father and my step-mother and my two little step-brothers but I will not let them in. So I am taken into custody, sitting, waiting for my fate.

Piper:  
"Daddy, daddy, please, the Reaping starts soon." My father is on the phone with someone high up from the Capitol, making sure everything runs smoothly. But my dress is surely crooked and my hair is choppy and out of place and I need to talk to him.  
"Piper, shush." He walks down the hallway, still on the phone, and my blood boils. He always ignores me. Being the Mayor does mean he has responsibilities, but they shouldn't come between his family.

I find the small mirror in my pocket and examine my reflection. My face is cleaned, my hair is flowing as much as it can, my make-up is perfect. The floaty pink dress, the one father spent so much money on, looks perfect. But I just want my dad.

I shove the mirror away and open my window with a creak; I can see the Square perfectly from here. We are only a few streets away, only the butcher's and the bakery's and the sweets-man's shop are between us. I look for my boyfriend, Jason Grace. There is no sign of him down there at all. I sigh and sink into a chair, my bare toes squishing the velvety material.

We are running late. Father finally gets off the phone and we run, weaving through the crowds of people. When we stop he holds my hands and kisses my forehead.  
"Good luck, Pipes. I hope you don't get chosen." He then runs off, having duties to attend. My eyelids weigh down with sleeplessness and I reluctantly sign in, filing in with the other girls from District One. Instead of listening, I study the others. I've already heard the rules from Father a thousand times.

I watch Jason's sister Thalia. She is fourteen, but eccentric in all ways. Startling black hair with bright blue streaks and matching dancing eyes. She has this ethereal sense to her. We lock eyes and she laughs, an unheard of sound during the Reaping. But her eyes continue to dance and they dance away from me. My senses perk up as I realise she is watching the stage, and I should be too, as they are drawing the names, with boys first.

"Travis Stoll!" The shrill voice rings, and a brute of a boy lumbers up, eyebrows raised in curiosity. I wonder how long he will last.

And then the next name, the first female name, the 'Th' sound pronounced incorrectly. I watch my boyfriend's little sister walk to her death. And then, still in shock, he joins the trio. And now I am joining them, too.

My brain doesn't process it; it must be an error. Mayor's families don't get chosen. Unless they are being punished. Before I take hands with Jason, I turn to my father, my eyes asking what I can't ask. The slightest nod of the head confirms it; this is a punishment. And there is nothing I can do.

Nico di Angelo:  
I don't know why they put me in here to wait for visitors. I will have none. My entire family is dead. My sister was killed in these games last year. I wonder what the Captiol will think, watching us both die.

I don't know if Leo or Zoe will have any, but Hazel won't either. We found each other at a young age, told we were family. Maybe we are, maybe cousins or something. We are alike. I'm a year older of her and extremely protective of her. I will do everything I can to let her win.

The TV hums with electricity and I turn it on, another Reaping filling the screen. District 3. "Silena Beaureguard!" An exceptionally pretty girl flutters onto the stage with bright, confident blue eyes and beautiful black hair that saves down her shoulders. A guy called Beckendorf is next, strongly built and extremely protective of the girl. And then comes up a pair; an ugly, strong girl built better than the Justice Building and a small guy with her. The escort yells something and I sigh, curling up on the velvety couch.

I hear the sound of the Peacekeepers' boots and turn the television off, not daring to breathe. I hear someone mutter 'Zoe'. Good for her that she has got family or friends who care about her.


End file.
